


Far from Nothing

by ThatGirlOverThere



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, During The Hobbit, F/M, Fascination with Dwarfs, Fascination with Elves, Kíli is Cheeky, Maybe A Little Plot, Missing Scene, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tauriel is curious, Vaginal Sex, kili - Freeform, tauriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGirlOverThere/pseuds/ThatGirlOverThere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli, ever cheeky and persuasive, lures a curious Tauriel into his cell. Sexiness ensues.</p><p>Missing Scene from "The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug". Takes place during Kíli and Tauriel's evening chat. Pretty movie-compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Luring Her In

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how long this is going to be, I'm planning one more chapter as of right now. If there is considerable interest and I'm still interested in the pairing when the second chapter is finished, I might continue it and add some other pairings. Although it can be argued that Tauriel is a bit of a Mary Sue, I enjoyed her and Kíli's romance in the movie. I altered her character a bit (just made her a bit more curious and multidimensional) to add a little something extra. They've piqued my interest, and there isn't a lot of fiction out there about them as of yet, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I hope you enjoy. As always, feedback is appreciated.

She was an effective Captain of the Guard, that much she knew. Even so, she could never be truly respected, after all, her flame-red hair did her no liberties, writing her off as a commoner with murky blood: a Silvan elf. After all, despite her apparent and unwavering loyalty to the protection of the elves and to the Elvenking Thranduil, she could never be their equal. She’d worked hard, risen as far as possible, but there was indefinitely going to be an unsurpassable barrier between her and the Sindarin elves: she could never be like them. There was just no way.

 

She huffed silently to herself, blowing a reddened lock out of her eyes. She made her rounds quietly, her sinewy legs and light feet making hardly a whisper as she glanced into each cell, making sure that none of the newly captured dwarves were up to anything.

 

Her thoughts returned to Thranduil's words: _Legolas has grown very fond of you_. Fondness came in many flavors, and none of the ones that the light-eyed elf had shown towards Tauriel hinted at intimate affection. He was quite handsome, naturally, and a gifted fighter: strong, graceful, and skilled with a bow, but being the son of Thranduil gave to him an air of coldness, his emotions very rarely showing when he was not in battle. In her fantasies she tried to imagine what he might be like as a lover: tantric, slow, almost effeminate. But more often than not, these fantasies lacked her true desires, desires that she believed Legolas could not fulfill.

 

Tauriel’s nose curled as she glanced into one of the cells; an astonishingly hairy dwarf was sprawled out on the ground, great puffs of air exiting his nostrils. The whole area carried the heady scent of sweat, dust, and dwarf. Elves most certainly did not smell like these worn travelers did.

 

Tauriel’s ears quirked, and she quietly padded over to a cell in its own secluded corner, a bit detached from the rest. A faint, rhythmic clanging echoed through the hall. She poked her head into the darkened cell. With the barest light she saw the outline of a dwarf, less stocky than the others, but just as broad-shouldered. He was also far less hairy, with dark shoulder-length locks and a shorter, more stubbly hair on his face. She could not make out his face.

 

“What is that you’re throwing?” demanded Tauriel, shining her oil lamp against the elegantly carved cell bars.

 

The man turned to face her. In the light, she could clearly see him: this dark, dusty hair, hair-shadowed face, and surprisingly clean skin. His dark eyes, bright as beetles, watched her in interest.

 

“Nothing,” he quipped, his lips forming an unnaturally cheeky smirk.

 

“I demand that you hand it over,” she repeated, this time a bit less forcefully.

 

He laughed. “I’m not dressed for company,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows. “But you’re welcome to come in and have a look-see.”

“You’ll try and escape.”

 

The dwarf laughed again. “Who’s to say I’m not trying to as we speak? You never did search me, after all,” he said cheekily.

 

She huffed indignantly and unlocked the door, and quickly locked it behind her. Her thin arms easily fit through the bar-slots, and she placed the keys on latch of the oil-lantern beside the cell. His large arms could never fit through the slots, and she figured that he could not overpower her and attempt to escape when she could very easily press one of her well-concealed daggers to his throat.

 

“Give it to me,” she demanded, holding out a dainty, moon-pale palm.

 

He dropped the emerald stone into her hand. “It’s not a weapon, miss. It was my mother’s. I would like it back, though, if ya’ don’t mind.”

 

She studied the smooth, polished rock, and deeming it harmless, handed it back to him. “I’m sorry,” she said. In the light, she realized that he was actually quite handsome for a dwarf, with dark, molten-brown eyes and shaggy, dark hair. He was so exotic-looking, so different from the elves she was so used to, with his broad shoulders and thick upper arms, short legs (he was actually quite tall for a dwarf), and powerful muscles. She stepped closer, having never been so close to a dwarf. Young as she was, her curiosity often got the better of her.

 

He had hair on his face! And not a thick, braided beard that dragged upon the ground collecting dirt and dust, but short, stubby hairs that seemed to be cut with a sharp blade. She stepped even closer, studying him.

 

It suddenly occurred to her that she was in uncomfortable close proximity with him, and that she could smell him: the dust and dirt of a long journey, the sweat of hard-working muscles. She quickly scurried back.

 

He looked back at her with fond amusement. “You’re actin’ as if you’ve never seen a dwarf before!”

 

Tauriel shook her head. “Never so closely.”

 

“Don’t be scared, Miss Elf. I’m not going to hurt you. Wouldn’t be proper, anyway, killin’ a pretty woman.”

 

“Tauriel,” the elf said quietly. “My name is Tauriel.”

 

“Tauriel,” the dwarf repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like wet honey. “I am Kíli. Don’t be scared, I’m flattered by your curiosity.”

 

This, Tauriel decided, was a real man. He could easily be the dark, faceless figure that haunted her most personal fantasies. He was not like an elf, no, with his huge hands that could hold her waist firmly, his strong arms that could lift her like air, calloused fingers that would...

  
Her cheeks red and hot, she quickly snapped up to his gaze. “Tell me, then, Kíli,” she said, throat desert dry, “Exactly how different... physically... are dwarves from elves?”

Kíli swallowed thickly, this Adam's apple bobbed beneath the coarse, stubby hairs protruding his chin and neck. "We're quite different really... I don't really know how to explain it all to you, there's quite a bit..."

"I want to see for myself," said Tauriel.

Kíli could do nothing but nod.


	2. Exploring the Dwarf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments and Kudos. I'm really happy you guys are enjoying it.

The light of the oil-lamp setting the cramped stone cell aglow, Tauriel stepped closer to the prisoner, ghosting her fingertips over the scratchy stubble of his chin and neck. How would it feel between her thighs, on her neck, against her breasts? She shivered, her belly set aflame and her heartbeat accelerating. Kíli closed his eyes and drew in a ragged breath. Tauriel continued her explorations, running her hands through the coarse hair on his head, and over the smooth skin of his face. Her thumb stopped when his pink tongue poked out and moistened the swell of his lower lip. His eyes opened to meet hers, questioning, with pupils enlarged and jet-black.

“Do you wish me to stop, Kíli?” Tauriel asked quietly.

Kíli swallowed again, and fiercely shook his head.

Tauriel leaned forward and, throwing duty, tradition, and sanity through the cell bars, ran her tongue over the contour of his lips, tasting sweat and musk. She felt the heat of the breathing from his nose against her cheek, and felt a large hand grip her waist almost painfully tight. A deep sound of longing formed in the back of the dwarf’s throat, rumbling against Tauriel’s exploring fingers. She looked up at him in surprise, and saw desire, insistent and true, burning in his gaze.

“I don’t want to be forward,” he growled in a raspy, deep tone that sent liquid heat coursing through her most private places, “But please keep doing what you’re doing. I don’t wish for you to ever stop.”

Tauriel hummed in acknowledgement and sealed her lips over his without another word. Kíli quickly met her lips in the embrace, his tongue seeking hers as they intertwined and met, passion overtaking them. The kiss became a mess of teeth, tongues, and hot breath, and with each passing moment more liquid pooled in her quim, the scent of sweat and her femininity mingling in the air. Kíli moved to her alabaster throat, peppering the skin with kisses and nips that drew the most delicate, whispery breaths from Tauriel, who has moved to a position in which she straddled his lap. Still, she had not moved herself close enough to him, her cunt throbbing and wishing for more than just the feeling of the dwarf’s strong thighs.

She was lurched closer as Kíli’s strong hands wrapped around her bottom and drew her flush against him, his attention still upon laving the skin of her neck and what little skin peeked out of the top of her tunic with his tongue. She let out a desperate little moan as her moistening mound, concealed by her buckskin leggings, rammed against his hardening length. Kíli chuckled, a low, sensuous sound.

“Still nothing?” he whispered into her ear, his devious tongue laving the tip. Tauriel whined softly. Kíli’s attention turned to the clasps of her tunic, his large, thick fingers hopeless in unlatching the delicate clasps. Tauriel shoved him off quickly.

Kíli looked up at her in confusion, his eyes bright with hurt.

She quickly shook her head. “There is plenty of time for you to explore me, but while the night is still young, I’d like to explore you.” Kíli nodded, somewhat in relief.

Tauriel pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Kíli’s lips, unlike the harsh, desperate ones of before, and pressed more gentle kisses to the skin of his neck. She inhaled softly, breathing in the scent of his long journey, the sweat of his exertions, and the proof of his masculinity.

He was glorious.

“You smell lovely,” she whispered, all but giggling like a foolish 400-year-old.

Kíli snorted. “That’s only because I bathed in the river naught but two days ago. You’re quite lucky, actually, otherwise I would have smelled like a real pig.”

Tauriel laughed, a tinkling, melodious echo that Kíli could have listened to a million times over. She returned to her kisses, tucking his shaggy hair behind an exotically curved ear. She ran over the circled slope with her lip, and gently nipped the top. Kíli groaned loudly.

“Wicked elf,” he hissed, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Tauriel laughed and smoothed her palms over his chest. “Would you be so kind as to take these off for me?”

Kíli whipped the worn leather and burlap clothing off in record time, and Tauriel’s eyes widened.

“There is... hair? On your chest?” she asked incredulously. She ran her fingers through the thick, dark pelt on his wide chest, which thinned out and left a dark, devious trail running downwards into his trousers. Elves were smooth as babes in comparison, and pale as the moon. Kíli laughed.

“I am a dwarf, not a womanly elf. Of course there is hair on my chest,” he said.

“It is soft,” Tauriel said,”I have not seen anything like it before.” She traced a line down from the center of his defined pectorals, down his flat stomach, rock-solid, and straight over the line of hair that led southward. Her throat grew dry.

“These,” she commanded, voice hoarse, “Take these off. Now.”

His trousers were off in an instant, and she was greeted by an unashamedly erect cock, pointing skyward. Her throat grew even dryer. He was average by Elvish standards, a bit shorter than the long, slender Elven erections, but impossibly thick. His cock was straight and fat, rather than curved and thin like she was accustomed to. There was extra skin as well, bunched below the swollen red lip. Large veins protruded the thick length, the sacs below also large and prominent. Dark, curling hairs adorned the base, and a shining bead of moisture grew at the tip.

Tauriel swallowed. She reached forward and felt him, the whole length of him. Kíli whimpered. Tauriel had never brought a man pleasure through touch and taste, no, she’d only been with one other man, a close Elven friend, Huondíl, but it was without passion or intimacy. She had told him to take her, gently, so that if she was ever captured, tortured, and violated, it would not be as a virgin. She had cared about him, and it had been simple and comfortable, but it had been quick, efficient, and precise in the way that only an Elvish man could be.

She for the first time felt a man, and felt the skin of him, soft like an eyelid, but hard underneath like the grip of a blade. Kíli groaned again, his hips snapping up into the circle of her grip. Fascinated by his reaction, she leaned forward and licked the tip experimentally. Kíli’s head fell back and he cursed, gripping the stone of the cell bench with white knuckles.

“Do you wish me to bring you pleasure with my tongue, Kíli?” Tauriel asked, crouched down between his thighs, still holding the fat member in her fist.

“Oh, Mahal, yes, anything, Tauriel, anything,” Kíli groaned.

Tauriel licked up the length of him, up to the tip, hollowing her cheeks. She used the roof of her mouth, and soft length of her tongue, and her inner cheeks. She knew that she lacked finesse and technique, but oh, Kíli was moaning, Kíli was begging her, pleading her not to stop, his thick hands were tangled in her red hair, guiding her, showing her how to pleasure him.

She licked her way down again, and back up, and pressed the softest, most gentle kiss to the tip. Kíli swore again, his shoulders tensing.

“Please Tauriel, please,” Kíli gasped desperately. “Please keep doing that, please keep licking me with your tongue, it’s wonderful, please....”

Suddenly she swallowed him, down to the hilt, tears springing to her eyes as she gripped his thighs to keep from choking. Kíli made a dark, feral noise, and hot, bitter semen flowed from him like a sacred river, and she swallowed and looked up at him, his face contorted in the sweetest release. His eyes opened and he brought her up in his arms, cradling her hairless face, soft and white and beautiful, and kissed her deeply.

“I will explore you now, and bring you pleasure as you have done for me. Is that acceptable?”

Tauriel responded with a feral, hungry kiss, her quim soaked and throbbing.

“Very acceptable, Kíli,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I've decided to split the story into three chapters: this one was devoted to Kíli, and the next will focus on Tauriel, and will probably be even longer.  
> As always, comments and feedback are appreciated.
> 
> Love,  
> ThatGirlOverThere

**Author's Note:**

> I understand that many people dislike Tauriel. I do realize that she's a bit of a Mary Sue, but I don't think that anyone who likes her character deserves to be flamed. Nor does Evangeline Lilly, who did a terrific job playing the role she was given.
> 
> On a lighter note, more to come, including the impending sexy times. Do tell me what you thought, and what you'd like to see happen next.
> 
> Love,  
> ThatGirlOverThere


End file.
